


My burden

by Icandigelvis



Category: Amazingphil - Fandom, Danisnotonfire - Fandom, Phandom, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Youtubers, kickthepj, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Ghosts, Ghosts AU, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 16:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2780279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icandigelvis/pseuds/Icandigelvis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil is tired of being special, something that Dan looks up to him because. Phil is tired off the dark circles under his eyes. Phil is tired of constant screaming of pain in his ears. Phil is tired of seeing the dead. </p>
<p>Short oneshot/ drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My burden

Living with Phil was sometimes a bit difficult. Though they shared many thoughts and views on different things, often sided when discussing topics that came to mind, they were two different people. Dan was more outspoken, a bit braver one would probably say, but Dan thought of it differently, he often admired Phil’s courage to say things, to be himself even though some situations tried to push roles and rules onto him. And Dan truly admired that about Phil. 

They were also different in the way that Phil could interact with the un-living, just a small little detail about his friend that Dan has gotten used to live with. Phil would occasionally snap his head to some direction, nod his head, smile or sometimes vocally reply. It was evident that Phil tried to pay most attention to the real world as his eyebrows would furrow when he was annoyed by someone Dan and the rest of the world could not see. Phil had explained that some people were simply ‘not as polite’ as others. 

Dan felt bad for his friend, Phil must have it though, with people, that no one else could see screaming in front of his face. He wasn’t jealous of that. 

But then again Dan would love to be as special as Phil, talking to ghosts seemed like a burden, yes, as Phil had said more than once, but it was like nothing else. Phil practically had super powers. 

Phil didn’t often explain what was happening, if someone was ‘visiting’ their apartment or if he saw someone. Sometimes he did, if they were walking somewhere and Phil would move to the side to give something invisible space. Sometimes others would stare but Phil just shrugged it off, and Dan would smile, again, admiring Phil. 

“Sometimes, lately most times, I wish I wasn’t born with it,” he said to Dan one evening, after they had a horror movie marathon. He looked at Dan and his friend could see the bags under his eyes were getting bluer and bluer each day. It seemed like a lot of people bothered Phil nowadays, as if words had spread in ‘ghost town’. Dan felt bad for him, scratching his wrist as he leaned for the remote to turn the TV off, the credits rolling in front of them. 

“If you could get rid of it, like now, would you do it?” Dan absently asked, getting up to put the now empty popcorn bowl in the dish washer. Phil stayed put on the sofa and slid down the cushions, laying down, staring into the ceiling. 

“Maybe,” he muttered, barely audible. 

And that small talk, one late Wednesday evening left Phil onto a path to which he stood on today, a month later, with a wallet full of paper, knocking on a door. He had taken the train, then a taxi to a smaller town outside of London, leaving Dan with a text simply saying ‘meeting an old friend for an hour or two, i’ll probably be back for pizza’ and it hurt to lie, especially to someone he never did such to. 

Internet was his friend and after curiously googling more on his ‘gifts’, something that he had done way back of course, he found a source about a woman who lived relatively close to him, and he thought, what’s the worst that could happen?

If he could get rid of this… this burden, not gift, Phil thought as he shook his head, waiting for the door, his life would be so much better. Seeing people others could not see was very distracting, and he would seem distant to his real life friends. His mother worried for him, his father looked sideways at him when he thought Phil didn’t see, his brother was overly protective. This had affected him in so much more negative ways than positive, he just wanted it gone. Then he could focus more on the real life, the radio show, things that were happening right now, meet more with friends and family, then he could finally sleep. 

The door open-ended just at that thought, a woman in her late years meeting Phil’s eyes. He brought a hand up to cough in it and smiled at her, introducing himself. 

“Hello, my name is Phil Lester, I… this is very unplanned but I found your ad online and thought I should give your shop a visit.”

She smiled at him, closing her eyes and opening the door more. He could see behind her how dream cathers were hanging across the walls, weird masks in one corner and boxes stacked on each other against another wall. 

“Welcome Philip, I can feel you and I have something in common, dear boy,” she said as she let him inside, and he looked at her again, eyebrow raised. 

“Oh really?”

“You can see them two, the lost people of this earth,” she said, as simple as stating the current weather and Phil’s eyes widened. So he wasn’t alone? This was the first time he actually met someone just like him, and his heart was suddenly beating a hundred times faster as he was led into her house. 

Two hours later he closed her door behind him, taking a deep breath and looking up at the sun, smiling. It was quiet, oh so quiet. There were no people around, just an occasional car passing on the street, and Phil was so happy he wanted to lie down on the nice woman’s lawn and cry. He was finally free. 

Phil didn’t put on his headphones as he usually did as he jumped onto the next train, he was too caught by the silence around him. There was a baby crying at the end of his wagon, a few teenage girls laughing loudly in front of him, but Phil was so happy he could sing, it was truly just a burden in the end. And now he was free. 

He was looking forwards to calling his family and telling them, texting his friends that knew, surprising his roommate at dinner, just bringing it up occasionally and watching the face of the other. Dan would support him, even if he wasn’t so special anymore. He knew it had been one of the reasons Dan had obsessed over Phil at first, when they just started to get to know each other, but now that Phil was as human as Dan they would have a lot more in common. He sent a text to his friend, telling him to order pizza for him and that he was on his way. Phil gave a call to PJ first, not being able to contain himself, spilling out how relieved he was over the phone. PJ seemed happy, truly happy for his friend. 

Phil spent the entire ride towards his house explaining how the lady helped him, how she performed the spell on him, how his should still hurt where she dragged the energy out. It was weird and magical and Phil honestly didn’t want anything to do with it anymore. 

He bust through his door, almost dropping the keys at first as he unlocked the door. He knew Dan liked to keep it locked even though he was home, it made his friend feel safer. 

“Dan!” he called and kicked off his shoes, hanging his coat on the hanger, checking his fringe in the mirror. His eyes were sparkling with excitement. There was a loud ‘pling’ and his phone vibrated in his pocket, he brought it up and raised his eyebrow at the screen where an error message met him, his text never being sent to Dan. His phone was now connected to the Wi-Fi at home and his phone had seemed to shut off or something, his text was in his and Dan’s conversation, but it was the only one, apart from the follow up error message. 

Had he accident texted the wrong number for some reason? 

“Dan?” he called once more absently as he made his way into the apartment and up the stairs, occasionally looking up from his phone as he tapped on the ‘back arrow’ and scrolled through his conversations. Dan wasn’t there, had he accidently removed him?

He kept scrolling and shook his head, scrolling to the top again, baffled. 

“Hey, my phone seemed to remove our convo completely? What is this?” he mumbled, stepping into the kitchen. There was no Dan to be seen there and Phil scratched his neck, continuing into the lounge, no Dan there either. 

“Dan?” he yelled, then mumbled to himself; “god damn it, did he go out or something?” 

He opened the door to Dan’s room and froze in his tracks. The silence was now screaming into his ears, all windows were closed, it was late and there was only silence. Then there was the sound of Phil’s phone hitting the floor. 

Where was he?

He felt his jaw hanging open and his eye watering for keeping open for so long, as his pupils scanned the alien room in front of him. There was no bed, no Guild Wars poster on the wall, only boxes and one of Phil’s old tripods. The piano was there, but on the wrong side of the room. It was in its original spot, where it had been where they moved in. 

Phil could hear himself gasp. What had happened? 

He stepped outside and turned to stare at the wall, then opened the door to his room; it looked like it usually did. He turned back to Dan’s room and stared. 

Was this all a sick joke? 

He dropped to the floor, clicking on the ‘contacts’ app and scrolling for Dan, for his parents, nothing was there. He scrolled down to PJ again and pressed call, the phone shaking as he brought it up to his ear. Why was it shaking?

Oh, his hands were shaking. 

“Phil?” PJ answered almost instantly. 

“PJ!” Phil exclaimed, his voice breaking. 

“What’s up?” 

“Have you heard from Dan? He’s not home, his room is empty, everything is different! What the hell is going on?” he asked, having to support the phone with both his hands, his knees digging into the carpet. The room seemed so cold and color less, even though Dan’s stuff was mostly black. 

“What?” PJ replied, sounding confused. 

“Yeah, like the piano is here and all, but the room is completely empty, and I think it’s my boxes that are here, like one says ‘books’ and I remember writing that on a box when we moved in here-“

“Phil, what are you talking about?”

“And Dan is completely erased from my phone, his family too, like… if this is some sort of prank it’s not fucking funny,” Phil said, even taking to cursing, something he didn’t usually do. His heart was speeding up, so was his breathing and his shaking got more and more erratic. 

“Who are you taking about, Phil?” PJ asked, interrupting Phil. Phil slowed down in his breathing, gasping “whaa” in the phone as he stared into the carpet. There was silence and music coming from somewhere on PJ’s end. 

“Who’s Dan? Or do you mean Rebecca’s Daniel?”

Silence. 

“I don’t get who you’re talking about, and what’s with your spare room?”

For the second time that day Phil’s phone dropped from his hands, falling onto the soft carpet. He could hear PJ calling for him. But all Phil could do was stare into nothing as his mind tried to put pieces together. 

No.

What had he done. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he finally understood, tears forming in his deep blue eyes. A color and part of him that was no longer important, cause the person who was to constantly compliment him of it was no longer here. 

“I’m sorry.”


End file.
